I’ll get the tickets, she said.
He remained motionless a few seconds while she disappeared. At that hour, the town was dead, the lively neighborhoods deserted, the curtains drawn, and he drove home without paying attention. He couldn’t believe he’d suggested that idiotic idea, and wondered what had come over him. He washed his hands thoroughly when he got back, then took a long shower and sat for a moment on his bed, clock in hand, hesitating to set the alarm.
He was already thinking that they’d have to arrive early to grab a spot near the exit.
He took his pills and lay down. In the end, he didn’t set the alarm, hoping to sleep in a little by skipping his exercise routine. Despite the darkness in the room, there was a ray of moonlight filtering above the shades, and the more he stared at it, the brighter it grew. He felt a thudding in his temples. At least he’d get to see Lost Highway again, and on a big screen. After all, it was easier than teaching her how to bowl. Less of a commitment. When she had touched his arm, he’d nearly jumped.
TIES
Richard finagled a reprieve on paying off the Alfa and that same day, he had the eighty-inch-wide screen that they’d talked about installed in the living room.
Money didn’t grow on trees. When he called the guy to talk about the problem and asked if he couldn’t see his way clear to working it out, the man had snorted on the other end of the line. Then Richard had swallowed his pride and asked again. And how do you expect to pay me, the other had snickered. By sucking me off, or cleaning my pool for the next twenty years. What do you take me for, an idiot.
Richard couldn’t tell Nath that he’d emptied out her bank account and then had the money stolen from him. Impossible. Never. There were limits, a line you didn’t cross. Getting yourself ripped off like some rookie clown, taking out a wad of cash to score some speed.
How could he have been so dim-witted. He had choked with rage, banged his head against the wall, called himself every name in the book.
You still there, the other asked.
That evening, when Nath came home and found the new TV hanging in the living room, she couldn’t entirely hide a slight smile of satisfaction.
Is it big enough, Richard said behind her.
He had spent the afternoon on a cloud, and finally seeing his wife smile, after the face she’d been pulling since his return, was worth its weight in chocolates.
A bit more and he might even have forgotten the bargain he’d struck. He’d regained confidence in his lucky star—which had faded in the black sky above his head—and once again felt in good form.
Now go take a gander in the garage, he said.
When he’d opened his eyes, early that morning, his first thought had been that he was on the edge of a cliff, the very edge, with no money, no car, and in deep, deep shit. And now this. This sudden brightness, this improbable miracle. How fast the wind could turn. Fill utter darkness with light.
Mona thinks it’s cool, he called out, turning on the TV.
Try not to wrap it around a tree, she answered from the garage.
She went out early for her yoga class. Richard was disappointed that she didn’t sit with him on the couch, in front of their new set: the euphoria he’d been feeling since his situation had turned around, the warmth coursing through his entire body, was leaving him aroused.
Okay, Richard, but it can wait until tomorrow. Or even tonight, if I don’t get home too late. And besides, Mona’s here, just down the hall. She might get up for some water or something. I won’t be able to keep from thinking about it. And anyway, I pay for those classes. I didn’t sign up for nothing.
She was very fond of her night classes. Her legs and back felt better after the day’s tensions. Her mind, too. She parked in front of the health club and went the rest of the way on foot. The air was prickly. She walked fast and her breath steamed. There were still traces of salt on the sidewalks.
She sat opposite him in one of those bars with padded vinyl booths where they would meet. It was no doubt the first time he’d seen her in a tracksuit, hair uncoiffed and no makeup; she had done it on purpose. She thought for a second of Richard, the interest he’d shown in her five minutes earlier, but ultimately that was all men thought about—that wasn’t why she was there.
The bouquet of flowers lying on the bench hadn’t escaped her notice.
But that was just it: it had to stop. The flowers, the phone calls, the texts. They’d slept together only about half a dozen times. His name was Vincent, but she’d never called him by his first name. He was young, they’d never had a real conversation, he didn’t count.
Listen, she said. It’s all because of fracking. The price of oil collapsed. They shut down his platform earlier than expected.
Just like that. Overnight.
Yeah, whatever. In any case, we can’t see each other anymore. Don’t try to call me, don’t send me anything. Let’s not make a big deal out of it. Trust me. He was in Special Forces for years. I don’t need to draw you a picture. I’m not into living in fear, and I have no desire to keep looking over my shoulder. I don’t want any of that.
So what do you want.
She pulled back from the table, smiling, surprised. She hadn’t expected anything so direct.
That’s kind of a personal question, isn’t it.
I’m curious.
She looked at him for a moment, then grabbed her bag and left without a word.
The night was dark, the street deserted. He caught up with her in front of a tattoo parlor whose sign was blinking red on the sidewalk. He grabbed her arm to make her stop.
You don’t even know what you want, he barked. That’s what the problem is.
Who said there’s a problem, she replied. Not with you, in any case.
Vincent’s face brightened. That’s what I was waiting for, he said. It’s about time you told me something real.
She played for time, feeling vaguely guilty.
Fair enough. I’m sorry. It’s not what you want that matters, it’s what you can get. There’s your answer. Now let me go.
She resumed walking.
Cut all ties. Not a chance, he said between clenched teeth.
Without slowing down, she cast a sidelong glance at him. One thing you should learn, she said, is women hate guys who cling.
They turned at the corner with the Toyota dealership and arrived in front of her club.
You can’t stop me from seeing you, he insisted. I’ll come with my dog. I’ll make an appointment.
You wouldn’t.
That, and other things I haven’t thought of yet.
She stared at him once more, with an intensity that nailed him to the spot, then turned on her heels and disappeared inside. She sat in the locker room a moment before getting into her outfit. Like it or not, nothing had been settled. In the lotus position, a moment later, in a discreet aroma of essential oils and slightly senile New Wave music, she wondered whether she’d have to kill him.